The Shuddering

away. He didn’t want to think that it would go out within a matter of hours, that by nightfall, Sawyer’s body would more than likely be gone, claimed by the things that had taken Lauren, that had most certainly taken April.
    “We have to go,” he murmured, placing a hand on Jane’s shoulder. He couldn’t let the emotions overtake his logic, couldn’t allow the sorrow to keep them from their goal. They needed to get to the highway. They needed to walk.
    It took Jane a few minutes, but eventually she rose to her feet and began to walk. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t speak.
    They followed the protocol of the day before—an hour of trekking, then a break, stopping every few minutes when Oona would jump off Sawyer’s gurney and into the snow. The throb of Ryan’s shoulder had dulled to a nagging ache, and he had to constantly roll it to loosen the wounded muscles that had cramped beneath his coat. But he couldn’t help himself when he spotted something in the distance—hope filled his chest, dulled by sorrow but still burning hot. He grabbed Jane’s hand and pulled heralong, motivated by his curiosity to discover whether what he was seeing was real or a mirage.
    He shook his head, almost brought to tears by what unspooled before them; a beautiful black ribbon of glistening tarmac. It was the highway. They had made it.
    “I can’t believe it,” Ryan marveled, staring at the miracle before him. But rather than sharing in his fascination, Jane lifted her gloved hands to her face and cried.
    “We were so close,” she sobbed. “Just a few more hours…just a few more and he would have been okay.”
    He pulled her into a tight embrace, letting her weep into his jacket until she went quiet. He couldn’t allow himself to break. Not yet. They still had the challenge of spotting a car in the middle of nowhere, let alone getting that car to stop for a pair of blood-covered pedestrians. Inhaling a shaky breath, Jane pulled on the leash of their supply board and started to walk once more.
    “I’m never seeing snow again.” She sniffed, wiping her nose with her glove. “I’m done with mountains and boarding, okay?”
    Ryan nodded faintly, his legs suddenly feeling heavier than ever as they sank into the snow. His grief was starting to poison his bloodstream. He struggled against the burn of tears against the back of his eyes, squeezing his eyes shut as they continued to march. Fucking Sawyer , he thought. Just a few more hours. A few more hours and they would have made it. They would have survived this thing.
    The road ahead of them was so close, yet so far away. Every step was torture. He yearned for that clear asphalt, for the ability to stomp his feet against the ground without powder sucking him down.
    “We’re almost there,” he said, baiting both of them to keep going.
    And after a grueling half hour, they finally made it to the embankment, snow piled high where the plow had pushed it to the side of the road.
    It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen: a rich black ribbon twisting through a white landscape. The double yellow line that followed its contour reminded him that there was color in the world, assured him that with each step they were getting closer to something he hadn’t been sure would ever come. When they finally climbed over the embankment, he stood staring at it as though it were an absolute miracle. The tarmac was a line drawn in the snow, a line that despite all logic, he was sure those creatures couldn’t cross.
    Jane sank to the ground. It was as good a place to stop as any. The nearest town was more than twenty miles down the road and they had no chance of making it on foot. But that didn’t matter, because that hadn’t been the plan. This was where they’d wait until a car showed up, and when it did, Ryan would be damned if he’d let it pass them by. He’d jump in front of it if he had to. All he knew was that the next car going in either direction was their ride, whether the driver liked it or not.
    Forty-five minutes later, Ryan’s elation had dwindled to disbelief. Not a single vehicle had passed by, and he couldn’t help but wonder if despite the road having been cleared, somewhere down the line the transportation department had shut the damn thing down anyway. But that didn’t make sense. People lived up here. This was the only access road to a majority of the houses in the area, and while he was sure most of them were empty, there had to be at least